


First Day of December

by bansheequeens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bansheequeens/pseuds/bansheequeens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles doesn't show up to decorate the Christmas tree with her, Lydia goes to his house to give him a piece of her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Day of December

**Author's Note:**

> Merry christmas to the beautiful lydiamrtun.tumblr.com!!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it :))
> 
> from your secret santa xoxo
> 
> (made for a tumblr secret santa event)

“Lyds, what are we doing?” Stiles asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Tomorrow is the first of December. On the first of December we decorate the Christmas tree, it’s tradition.” Lydia smiled, holding up a box of ornaments.

“What tree?” Allison questioned.

“The one at my house, duh. You’re all helping to decorate it tomorrow, no excuses, you have to be there. I’m calling a pack meeting.”

 

A collective groan escaped the pack.

“I can’t tomorr-“ Stiles started, before Lydia snapped at him.

“No. Excuses. Compulsory pack event.”

 

*******************

 

Eleven o’clock. They were all meant to be here by now. Lydia sat on the sofa of her living room, tapping her feet impatiently. She sighed, of course they’d be late. They were always late. Not once had any of them ever made a deadline she’d set. Well, except for Stiles. Scott had once told her that he’s usually late for everything, but as long as Lydia was involved, Stiles seemed to make it on time.

 

Which made it all the more frustrating when the clock ticked over to 11:01, and there was still no sign of Stiles. 

 

By eleven thirty, most of the pack had managed to arrive. Allison was ten minutes late, Kira and Scott were seventeen, and Malia had managed to make it by 11:25, which was surprisingly early for her. But there was still one glaring hole in their little group. A slight lack of sarcasm and cynicism, a slight lack of…

 

“Where’s Stiles?” Lydia asked, looking around the room. Had he snuck him? It wasn’t unlike him to do that.

“He’s not here?” Scott frowned, “He’s usually on time.”

“I  _know_ that.” Lydia huffed, “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Maybe he’s just running late-“ Kira said softly.

“I’m calling him.”

 

Lydia picked up her phone, finding Stiles’ number within seconds. It was at the top of her contacts. She put the phone to her ear, listening to each ring. After a minute or so, it went through to voicemail, and while Lydia loved the sound of Stiles’ voice, his answering message wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear right now. 

 

“I’m going over there.” Lydia announced, already picking up her bag.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ Scott tried reasoning.

“What could possibly be more important than this  _compulsory_ pack meeting? I’m going over there to give him a piece of my mind.”

 

*******************

 

The others refused to come, which was perfectly fine by Lydia. How dare he not show up to decorate trees with her? How dare he blow her off like that? She remembers when Stiles used to pine after her, would yearn to do anything and everything with her, and she’d completely ignored him. Now she’d missed her shot, and, although she loved being Stiles’ friend, she’d come to want something more. And now he was over her, he was willing to blow her off when they were supposed to be decorating a tree!

 

_Lydia, you’re being ridiculous. He’s allowed to not come to one event. It’s not because of you._

 

That didn’t help her mood much. When she pulled up to the Stilinski household, Lydia felt her far growing red with anger, although she wasn’t quite sure who towards. The sheriff’s car was missing from the driveway, but Stiles’ blue jeep still sat untouched on the cold pavement. He was home.

 

Lydia swung the door of her car open, and stomped her way through the snow up to his front door, banging it with the side of her fist. She put her hands on her hips, and fashioned her face into a scowl.  _Yeah, he should be scared._ It took a few minutes before Stiles opened the door. To Lydia’s surprise, he didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed.

 

He was wearing nice, clean clothes, his hair didn’t look abysmal, in fact he looked rather handsome. Which Lydia didn’t notice. The weirdest thing, however, was the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

 

“Lydia, what are you doing-“ Stiles started, looking surprised to see her.

“What are those?” She pointed to the flowers.

“Oh-“ He looked down at his hand, seemingly realising he was holding them, “Nothing.” He shoved them behind his back.

“Are you going on a date or something?” Lydia felt her heart sink.

“What? No.”

 

Something was off. Stiles didn’t have his usually snark and sarcastic humour. His voice seemed deflated, and his eyes didn’t have their usual sparkle. Now that she looked at them, she noticed Stiles’ eyes were a little rimmed with red, and his nose had a pinkish colour. Not that Lydia noticed that sort of thing.

 

“Then why aren’t you at my house?” Lydia put her hands back on her hips, readjusting her scowl.

“What?”

“We were  _meant_ to be decorating a Christmas tree. Remember?”

“Oh…right.” Stiles sighed, it was clear he didn’t want to decorate the tree, clear he didn’t even want to be having this conversation with her at all.

 

“Or do you have someplace better to be?”

“Trust me, it’s not better..” Stiles mumbled.

“What?”

“Don’t worry. Listen, Lyds, I have to go, I’ll be there later, okay?”

 

Lydia scoffed. Now this was just getting ridiculous. He was leaving  _his own house_ just to get away from her.

“No. That’s not good enough. Where are you going?”

Stiles sighed again, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be at your place in like an hour. This won’t take long.”

“Fine. If you insist on ditching, then I’m coming with you.”

“No, Lydia-“ 

 

One look shut him up. Stiles let out a deep sigh, drooping his shoulders, before he shut the door behind him, trudging towards his beat up old jeep. Lydia hopped into the passenger seat, pleased she’d won the argument, although worried that it had hardly taken anything to win. Stiles and her usually bickered constantly, this new, pushover Stiles had her really worried.

 

“If you insist on coming, you can at least hold these.” Stiles muttered, handing her the flowers, lilies, Lydia realised. “Make sure they don’t get squashed.”

 

They drove in crushing silence. Lydia had never seen Stiles so quiet, so still. Only the sound of his, at times shaky, breathing gave any indication that Stiles was still alive. Lydia had given up on initiating conversation about five minutes into the drive, Stiles was pretty much unresponsive.

 

They pulled up at the side of a road Lydia didn’t even recognise. It was just a plain old street, with houses lining either side, and a large, grassy area down the end. She turned to Stiles, confused.

 

“I said you shouldn’t have come.” He sighed, picking up the flowers, “Just..stay here.”

 

Stiles didn’t say another word before he hopped out of the car, walking down the street in the brisk December air. Lydia watched him walk to the end of the street, and into the grassy parkland down the end.

“Where is he going…” She muttered to herself, pulling out her phone, she needed to figure out where she was.

 

It didn’t take long for the phone to locate her. It really was just a plain old street. She was all the way on the other side of Beacon Hills, about twenty minutes from her house. She looked at the park on the map, trying to see what was on the other side, trying to see why Stiles would walk through it. Then she knew. It wasn’t a park. It was the cemetery.

 

_What was Stiles doing at the cemetery? Why wouldn’t he tell her he was going there? Why wouldn’t he actually park at the cemetery, this is a massive walk?_  All these thoughts and more were buzzing through Lydia’s mind as she walked quickly through the cemetery, trying to locate her friend.

 

The place was eerie, and it made her feel on edge, but she kept going, she needed to find Stiles. After what felt like an hour, she finally managed to spot a head of dark brown hair, crouched in front of a gravestone. She could hear the faint sound of Stiles sniffling, and could practically feel her heart break. She didn’t have to read the name on the tombstone to know who it belonged to.  _Claudia Stilinksi._

 

“Stiles?” She called softly, causing his head to spin in her direction. He wasn’t crying yet, but his whiskey coloured eyes were wet, and his voice croaked when he spoke.

“I-I though you were staying in the car.”

“I realised where we were.”

“Yeah, didn’t think parking far away would keep out the great mind of Lydia Martin.” He laughed shakily.

 

Lydia came to sit down next to him. The ground was covered in soft, white snow. It would almost be romantic if not for them being surrounded by graves. Stiles had laid the flowers across Claudia’s grave, they were white to match the snow.

“Lilies were her favourite.” He whispered, as Lydia wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “It’s nine years today. That’s why I couldn’t come decorate your Christmas tree."

 

Lydia felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. Here Stiles was, mourning the anniversary of his mother’s death, and all she cared about was whether or not he wanted to decorate Christmas trees. She felt awful for barging into his house, for following him out here, for intruding on all of this.

 

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly.

“For what?” 

“For being a jerk, I forced you to take me with you, when you clearly just need to be alone, you need space, and you definitely don’t need me, because, I had my chance, and now you’ve moved on-“ Lydia stopped, realising what she’d just said, realising that there were now tears on her cheeks. 

 

“I should go."

 

Lydia stood up, starting to walk away, when Stiles called after her. Lydia whipped her head around, he was standing up too, head tilted slightly to the side. He waited for Lydia to turn around, before walking over to her, grabbing her hands in a way that made Lydia’s heart leap.

 

“You’re not a jerk.” He said quietly, “You could  _never_ be a jerk. You’re too beautiful and too kind to be a jerk, Lyds.” 

 

Lydia looked deep into his chocolate-coloured eyes, feeling her heart race, just like it did every time Stiles looked at her like that. Like she was the only person in the whole world that even vaguely mattered.

 

“I- I’ve intruded, though..” Lydia said, pulling away, before Stiles stopped her.

“No, you’re not. I-I kind of like having you here. It’s nice not to be alone.” Lydia dropped her gaze, feeling her face flush.

“Well, I kind of like being here too,” she whispered, “with you, I mean.”

 

Stiles put his hand under Lydia’s chin, and gently raised her head so they were making eye contact again. He smiled a little bit, for the first time that day, and then he did the one thing Lydia never thought he’d do. 

He kissed her. 

 

She felt his soft, warm lips pressing against hers in a rush of emotions. She overcame the initial shock, and eased into the kiss. She felt his hands move up her back, and ran hers along the back of his neck. It was everything and nothing like she’d ever imagined. 

 

Lydia pulled back, still resting her forehead against Stiles’.

“Wow..” She whispered.

“I can’t believe our first real kiss was in a cemetery.” Stiles laughed.

“Shut up, you idiot, you’ll ruin it.”

“I love you, Lydia. Always have.”

“I love you too.”

 

Stiles took her hand, and together they started back towards the jeep, using each other’s bodies for warmth.

“Should we decorate the tree now?” Lydia smiled.

“It’s the first day of December, it’s tradition."


End file.
